The 76th Hunger Games
by Miss Sugar Cane
Summary: So they really plan to draw these last Games through. I'm the symbol of the Capitol's fall so they want to see me suffer, they want to see me go down as brutal as possible. I won't fool myself. The story of Snow's granddaughter Glacier and her games, in an arena the world has never seen before and will never forget. Rating may change later.
1. Prologue

**AN:** Ok, this is my first Hunger Games fanfic and my second fanfic ever. It's about Snow's granddaughter being a tribute along with other kids from the Capitol. I know, it's done over a thousand times before but I simply couldn't resist .

English is not my native tongue and I'm not an experienced writer, so please don't kill me for grammatical errors and spelling mistakes. I really try to do my best!

**Reviews and comments are welcomed! No flames and spam!**

This prologue is very short, I know, but the next chapter will follow soon.

**I don't own the Hunger Games **

**Enjoy!**

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**Prologue**

My eyes are fixated on the big reaping ball. I bet that at least on half of the small paper strips is written my name. After all that's what the former Gamemakers used to do with the names of the victors' children for making the games more dramatic.

Well, it can't get any worse now, twenty-two teenagers are already reaped, all but one of them sentenced to death, about to be sent of for killing each other. I see Effie Trinket smoothing the last but one slip, reading out the name. I bite my bottom lip for the twenty-third time today, hoping one more time it's not my name read out. Is that how the district children used to feel every year?

"Zaphira Templesmith!"

Oh no, not her! Though I have just talked with her and only met her a few times we get along very well. She's one of Claudius Templesmith's daughters. Her twin sister Andromeda and Claudius have killed themselves after Coin's and my grandfather's death.

Pathetic cowards.

Well, I had several opportunities to end this once and for all, as an example Andromeda had offered me pills before she took them and others had offered to "borrow" me a loaded gun. But I did not swallow an overdose of morphling or jumped from a cliff, suicide is simply beneath me. And I have no family member to worry about anymore.

At the moment I can't do anything to get out of here so I have to watch Zaphira ascending the stage's stairs and arranging herself beside the other reaped ones.

I haven't paid much attention to the read out names, have been too busy to worry, but now I notice Seneca Crane's two sons, Icarus and Alec standing next to Zaphira.

Suddenly I realize that the leaders of the rebels, this year's Gamemakers, really want to draw these last games through, that no one on the stage would suddenly jump off his chair and say "Aah, don't you worry, we were just kidding! Have you really thought we want to descend to your standard, Capitol citizens?"

Icarus Crane, the elder, is an arrogant bastard, just like his executed father. But Alec, for God's sake, he's just twelve! Just a baby!

I've always felt sorry when a twelve-year old was reaped because that's simply not fair. What chance had someone like Alec in hand-to-hand combat against a grown strong man? That's right, none.

Now I notice that the leader of the rebels, the mockingjay, Katniss Everdeen who is sitting on a chair behind Effie next to Johanna Mason and Haymitch Abernathy, looks at Alec, apparently thinking about something. Maybe she remembers how her sister was reaped, most likely she does. But the mockingjay doesn't protest or does anything to save the twelve-year old.

_They really draw these final games through…_

I can hardly hold back the tears welling up in my eyes as I have a look at Alec's face. Scared, terrified, watery eyes… Poor thing, most likely his own brother would kill him without batting an eye with a mere movement of his arms like the boy from district two in the last but one Hunger Games.

But then the highly pitched fake cheery voice of the former district twelve escort brings me back to cruel reality.

"Now the last one!" exclaims Effie in her fake excitement, quickly adjusting her light turquoise wig. "I can't wait to see who will be the lucky one!"

Tensed I stare at Effie Trinket's hand grabbing a piece of paper out of the reaping ball, picking out the last tribute.

I really do hope it's not me but the odds aren't really in my favor. I don't want to die.

How do I explain this issue as short as possible? Ok, this year's Hunger Games are going to be last ones ever. After the districts had won the rebellion they hungered for revenge. Revenge for their children who died in all the previous games, forced to kill each other for 'our' entertainment. And of course there was no better idea than turning the tables and us so called 'Capitol Kids' to be the next tributes. As revenge, to satisfy the districts' bloodthirstiness… Wait, have I just really thought that?

The heavily rouged woman holds now a folded slip of paper in her lacquered claws and walks over to the microphone. She unfolds it and smoothes it slowly for the twenty-fourth time today. In a few seconds the name will be read out.

_Please not mine, please not mine…_

But I won't fool myself.

I am the symbol of the Capitol's fall.

I am going to be the main attraction of these final games, the districts want to see me die. Effie's last sentence just aggravated my worries about me going to be the star of this freakshow. For being honest, can Effie's last sentence be more obvious?

My grandfather died of some natural cause and most of the former Gamemakers have killed themselves, preferring death to falling into the clutches of angry rebels and raging district citizens.

Most likely they would have killed them in the most agonizing way possible. But before I can think more about it the last name gets called. My nerves freeze as the cyan colored mouth reads out the name, my name.

"Glacier Snow!"

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**To be continued…**

So what do you think? Please tell me!


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: **No, I'm not dead! ;)

Okay, here's the first real chapter but perhaps I'll rewrite it. The next one will take longer, because I'm still unsure about a few details and want to pre-write the next chapters. Thanks for the review and the faving! Sorry for the delay but I had to fight with school and depressions the last months!

_Thoughts=Italics_

**I don't own the Hunger Games**

Enjoy!

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**Chapter 1 **

"Two minutes"

A tape played cold female voice rips me out of my thoughts about the starting Games. Currently I'm sitting on a cold wooden bank in my white tiled Launch Room under the arena, fossilized and shaking. I know I've sworn to go down with pride and without fear but now I don't know whether I'll be able to keep that promise.

Standing up slowly and swallowing a lump in my throat the reality hits me. I can be dead in just a few hours, no in a few minutes, suffering an agonizing death for the vengeful district's entertainment to still their bloodthirstiness. That's what I know in the back of my mind. I know that they see my grandfather in me so they want to take their anger out on me, out on all of us. And a quick death would not do it…

"How do you feel Glacier?" asks my mentor.

This time the remaining victors play the mentors, like before. As there was no way they are connected to us tributes and we're all from the same part of Panem they just drew the tribute-mentor-pairings by lot. I'm stuck up with Lyme from district two. There were also no chariot rides and interviews this year because nearly all stylists have been executed.

Reaching forward Lyme pulls up the zipper of my jacket. I'm wearing a marine colored softshell-jacket and light grey trousers. My platinum blonde hair is braided into a classic braid falling over my back. Awkward combination I know but right now my looks are my last worries.

"Like a convict before the execution" I reply in a monotone voice.

The former victor's lips are still curled up into a smile. My brows rise as my worries are tightened. Does she want what the districts do? Does she want me to die the most agonizing way possible?

Okay, last week she prepared me very well for the Games, helped me to find my strengths, taught me everything she knows from how to appeal to the audience (what might be quiet difficult for me) to certain tricks to kill someone with your bare hands (well, that's Candidus' specialty). After all, preparing me for the Games is her job as mentor. But what is more important to her, the loyalty to her home district or keeping me alive?

"I know that feeling. I know it all too well"

Good, now I know why she's smiling. Of course she knows how I feel, even most of the careers tremble before the games start. She reaches inside her pocket and pulls something out. I see that Lyme has pulled out a thin gold necklace. Its pendant is a long clear crystal. What's that supposed to mean?

"I've noticed you don't have a token. Do you want to wear this in the arena?" replies my mentor as if she has read my mind.

Surprised I nod and take the necklace into my face. I hold it directly in front of my eyes, regarding the unusual pendant.

"It's a conserved icicle from the only cold snowy winter I have ever experienced in district two. "

Slowly I reach around my neck, put the necklace on and let the pendant fall under my jacket. Its coldness makes me shiver but somehow it's also pleasant.

"I thought it would suit your nickname my dear "frost flower". It's also my former district token!" replies Lyme with a smile, blinking slyly with one eye.

Aha, good to know. My grandfather always used to call me that due to my pale skin, my platinum blonde hair and my eyes. Their shade is a rare very light ice-grey. In the past some people thought I was blind because of this rare color. But that's not the only reason…

I've just accepted this nickname. But how does Lyme know about that? And why does she give me her district token, the only thing that tied her to her home in the arena.

"Thank you very much Lyme! I'm sure you'll find a way to get it back before I'll be buried!"

"Don't worry about that!"

"One minute"

Lymes' hands reach up touching my tensed shoulders.

"Ok, Remember what we've discussed. Don't get too close to the cornucopia, grab a backpack and a weapon, then get the hell away from there and find a source of water! These are just the classic tactics, but trust me, they always work out!"

Again I just nod and bite my lip, knowing I won't see her again. I want to tell someone about my worries. But there's no other possibility than my mentor. Can I truly trust Lyme? For one second I debate in my head… Tell her or not? It's now or never. On the one side I don't think that is a good idea. If she tells the gamemakers, my fate will be sealed. Somehow I know she won't do that. A strange taste settles in my mouth as I take a deep breath and tell what's burning on my tongue.

"Lyme,I don't know what to do! They won't have me as victor! I know that everybody sees my grandfather in me, no one wants to see me come out of this!" I say more desperate than intended.

Ok, now it's out. Maybe I'm lucky and she thinks I didn't mean it. But by Lyme's expression, shocked and awed I can tell she knows I mean it. What will she do? Say goodbye to me forever? Comfort me? Or tell me that my worries are nonsense?

"Fifteen seconds"

Lyme startles as if someone has splashed ice-cold water in her face or smacked her. "Oh no! I forgot the time! Enter the glass tube now!" she instructs me quickly.

"Thirteen seconds"

My legs carry me forward as I approach the platform and position myself on it. In less than five seconds it's going to lift me up into the arena, the place of nightmares like the victors described it in interviews after the war. I'm not able to do anything, just pan my glance around the room, taking in the last I'll ever see of the normal world.

„Eleven"

"Glacier, listen to me!"

Wait, where did that come from? I'm ripped of my trance like condition as Lyme gesticulates wildly and shouts:

"Don't worry about that Glacier! I'm already convinced that you're not like Snow! You're by far the…!" The glass tube closes and starts lifting me up.

"What?" I scream loudly and beat my fists as hard as possible against the glass but then I'm surrounded by dark. I can't think about Lyme or her words now, I have to focus on surviving the upcoming bloodbath around the cornucopia. One second to the other I'm surrounded by crude light, not able to see anything. Then the lift pushes me out of the tube.I'm conscious of a pleasant mild breeze.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the seventy-sixth Hunger Games begin!"

I don't know who's these games commentator but I couldn't care less about that now. Now there's no going back, ok there never actually was a going-back so I just pull myself together, slow my breath, stop shaking and concentrate on my surroundings.

But that's also forgotten and I get a shock for life as the light fades and I see the arena for the first time…

_No matter what kind of drugs the arena designer used to take, they were a bit too effective…._

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**To be continued…**

Ok, the arena will be revealed in the next chapter. It will be a very very special one (the arena). I think I've done hundreds of tense and spelling mistakes (sorry, I'm not English). More about Glacier's past and her nickname will be revealed later. ;)

Please review!


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